


You're boring me.

by obiwans



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: Mirror Universe, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/F, I'm Going to Hell, PWP, Porn Without Plot/ Plot what plot, i'm sorry don't judge me, selfcest, that's what i'm calling it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:59:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1677335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obiwans/pseuds/obiwans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It startles you to see yourself. The exact same but for her hair, which she always leaves long and a little messy and her dark smoky eyes a contrast to the sharp clean lines of your own makeup. You stand still and stand your ground as she approaches, a small smirk on her mouth that you feel the urge to wipe away with either your fist or your lips. You can’t decide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're boring me.

**Author's Note:**

> IM SO SORRY  
> porn without any plot at all  
> i just am sad and gay and have weird kinks that's all

Brisk footsteps follow you up the corridor to your quarters. The quarters dedicated to guests on this alien ship, an alien ship that’s almost the exact same as your own. 

You recognise the gait to be your own, the footfalls the right speed to match your own pace as you fall into step with your counterpart behind you. Nyota - the other Nyota -  can’t be far behind you now. 

"Where are you going?" Her voice, your voice. 

"Back to my quarters." You say calmly, as if you were explaining it to a child and you turn around to look at her. It startles you to see yourself. The exact same but for her hair, which she always leaves long and a little messy and her dark smoky eyes a contrast to the sharp clean lines of your own makeup. You stand still and stand your ground as she approaches, a small smirk on her mouth that you feel the urge to wipe away with either your fist or your lips. You can’t decide.

"Why am I so boring in your universe?" She asks impertinently, inserting herself into your personal space. In retaliation you take a step back only to find yourself against the cold white wall.

"I’m not boring." You reply, your chilly voice in stark contrast to your hammering heart. There’s nobody around now, she’s cornered you alone in a hallway and it’s not quite how you imagined but it’s somewhere close. 

"Hm, really? Because I don’t find you all that interesting, girly." Is her reply that makes you seethe. It makes your head spin with anger and a funny kind of lust that’s filled your dreams since you entered this damn universe. Her face, your face, haunting nightmares and dreams blended into one which leave you waking in cold sweats with a warmth between your legs. These things aren’t new to you, there’s always been a need for harder, faster, meaner. You never gave into it, you never had the means to. It was always simply a fantasy, but this was oh-so real.

You came here with your crew, to attempt a diplomatic solution to the universe problem. It’d been Spock’s idea, to return and try to help this damned universe with their other selves. Since arrival you’ve found yourself in the custody of your counterpart, she’s been saddled with looking after your crew on the journey back to the other earth.

Now, she stands before you, too close. Almost touching. It’s meant to be a threat, threatening people is how she gets people to obey her. You want to push back, to disobey and see how she looks when true rage flashes over her features. You want to see how she looks when she pushes you against the wall and looks at you with darkened eyes. 

"You will." You assure her, meeting her gaze with the full force of your own.

It’s a challenge, she takes it eagerly. Your stray hairs are being tucked behind your ear as she leans in to whisper. “Make me.” She says, her breath sending a shiver over the delicate skin of your throat. 

Your heart is pounding with anticipation but you don’t hesitate. Your hands move to fist in the shirt of your counterpart and you pull her close to you so your faces are aligned and you kiss her hard, selfishly. Your mouth feels bruised from the force of it but it’s everything you want.

Her hair that she left loose today brushes your collar bone where her your shirt meets bare skin and suddenly you’re breathless and spinning with only her as an anchor. She’s bracing her hands either side of your head as she overtakes the kiss fiercely. Her biting your lip unabashedly makes a low moan escape your throat and a heat grow low inside you.

Her hands find their way to your hips and she pulls you up so your legs are wrapped around her waist. You’re glad of the short skirt of your uniform because now her hands are finding their way beneath it and tracing the edges of your wet knickers teasingly. 

You break away from her mouth to wriggle your hips and sigh into her neck as she rubs you through thin cotton. Your hips rock desperate against her, and you’re more turned on than you have any right to be. You have been since she approached you in the first place. 

She’s all cusses when you start to bite her shoulder, marking it with a dark bruise just above her collar bone. Your thin knickers are pushed to the side as her thumb make her way to circle your clit, while her fingers push into you and curl. Your hands roam over her body as her other hand roams over your own, faster and more urgent each passing moment. Your blood pounds through you as she fucks you hard, against a wall. Just like you imagined she would.

When you come, it’s an orgasm that sends stars across your vision and your own name spills from your lips. Her come-covered fingers are lifted to her mouth and she licks it off, keeping her blown eyes locked on you as she does. You sigh and push yourself down to stand at her height again.  She chuckles deeply and kisses you again, still desperate. “I still don’t find you that interesting.” And it’s a request or a plea for more.

You oblige with a copy of her earlier smirk and lead her by the hand to your quarters, where you push her down onto your bed to kneel between her thighs. Her knickers are discarded along with her dress. It’s not long before she’s quivering under your touch as you take her apart with your tongue. She tastes of you, salt and musk and bitter-sweetness blended into one as you tastes earlier from her second kiss. 

She makes gasps and cants her hips that let you know she’s close, and when she’s done you crawl up trailing kisses to her shoulder. When you stop you shoot her a cheeky smile, lips still wet and pink from her pussy.

"Still boring?"

"Not at all."


End file.
